


teeth

by ignitesthestars



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Multi, Neck Kissing, Power Dynamics, Romance, uh in a certain sense of the word i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12098055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: “You’re late,” she informs the Darkling, not looking up. They’re in the private garden attached to the monarch’s suite in the Great Palace. It might be winter elsewhere in this hemisphere, but it is summer in Ravka, and over this small slice of paradise in particular. The time when that might have been difficult for Alina to pull off is a distant haze; she lets her mind skitter over the memories and doesn’t dig deeper.That way lies madness. A conclusion both she and Nikolai have reached, after the first chaotic years of their reign.





	teeth

“You should cut it,” Alina decides, absently winding her fingers through a lock of her husband’s hair. His head rests in her lap, and while he doesn’t quite close his eyes, he’s at rest enough that they slide halfway shut.

Nikolai makes a habit of not giving himself additional vulnerabilities, when the Darkling is with them.

“And lose my rakish good looks? I think not.”

A thread of darkness winds its way up his throat, fluttering under golden skin in time to his pulse. Alina frowns, forefinger glowing as she abandons his hair to trace the mark, chasing it away.

He makes a sound, shifting. Fifteen years, and she’s not entirely sure if it’s pleased or not.

Nikolai makes a habit of not giving himself additional vulnerabilities around Alina, as well.

“If your good looks relied completely on your haircut, you’d have a much smaller ego.”

“Ah, she bites!”

She makes sure he can see her flat expression before leaning down, scraping her teeth over the warm line of his neck before kissing it, just as gently. _That_ sound is definitely one of pleasure, and she hides a smile against his skin as a shadow falls over them both.

“You’re late,” she informs the Darkling, not looking up. They’re in the private garden attached to the monarch’s suite in the Great Palace. It might be winter elsewhere in this hemisphere, but it is summer in Ravka, and over this small slice of paradise in particular. The time when that might have been difficult for Alina to pull off is a distant haze; she lets her mind skitter over the memories and doesn’t dig deeper.

That way lies madness. A conclusion both she and Nikolai have reached, after the first chaotic years of their reign.

Aleksander makes a sound that isn’t quite a huff of amusement. “Someone has to run the country while the two of you...relax.”

Underneath her, Nikolai stills. Alina sighs, lifting her head and dragging a hand through the pale weight of her hair, drawing it over one shoulder.

Looking at the Darkling is still a little like getting punched in the gut, even after all this time. His hair (longer than Nikolai’s) is drawn mostly away from his face in a low tail, leaving only a few locks loose to frame his face. If the king has mastered the art of pretentious dishevelment, his general has had that many more centuries to perfect it. The sunlight caresses his pale face, setting off cold eyes and the webbing of scar tissue both as they meet each other’s gaze.

“Jealousy’s not a good look on you,” she lies.

“You were not,” Nikolai bites, “running the _country_.”

Alina considers interrupting, heading this argument off at the pass, but it’s too warm to bother with. She lets her head rest back against the tree behind her, closing her eyes as their sniping fires back and forth in front of her.

“If you’re so worried about who has the most power between you, I can always slice the top off another mountain,” she murmurs, when they appear to have settled down to glowers. _Men_ , honestly.

A pause. Silence from one of these men is dangerous; silence from both can be deadly. Alina cracks an eye open.

“Actually,” Nikolai says, head still in her lap and sounding like a king anyway. “There _has_ been some discussion.”

She looks between the two of them. Aleksander’s impassiveness has given away to a chilling sort of anticipation. Her hand, back in Nikolai’s hair, tightens.

“ _Parem_ is under our control,” he says.

“As are the seasons, to a degree.”

She tugs on his hair for the bad pun, drawing something like a groan and a laugh from the man.

“Fjerda is waiting,” the Darkling finishes. “It would be rude to keep them in such a state of apprehension.”

This has been coming for so long, Alina can’t be sure when she stopped trying to avert it. The first time she heard tell of a banner made of _kefta_ , perhaps. Oversaw the burial of bodies burnt at the stake. Encountered a Grisha begging for just one more hit of _parem_.

Both men await her response. Luckily for Ravka’s mountain ranges, she hardly ever needs such physical reminders of her power.

“Get a hair cut,” she says finally, looking down at Nikolai. “If we’re going to carve ourselves an empire, you need to look the part.’


End file.
